There are a certain number of people who know me who will not understand, and may never be able to comprehend my attachment to animals. This post is really for the rest of you...
Today is a tough one. This morning I took Scottie to the vet and had him euthanized. I had more or less made my mind up about a week ago that the time had come and spent the last several days getting some final quality time in and saying goodbye.
I will get into the specifics behind this decision in a minute, but first I want to reflect on some of my perspectives as to this love of animals that has grown to be so strong for me.
The more I look around, and like others afflicted with the gift of sight+compassion, see the effects we are having on the natural world, the more I feel a deep sense of shame. I have never been one who subscribes to the idea that it is a bad thing to kill a living being for the sake of a good BBQ. Meat is Murder :-) but there are definitely degrees to the horror of that crime.
I am a person though whose heart breaks every time I see a report on the latest oil spill in the bay, or the effect the rising temperature has on the penguin populations, or the decision to kill (vs. tranquilize) a wild tiger irregardless of the fact that it has mauled people. For me, these things are unforgivable. Turning an indifferent eye is a crime against nature. The implication of the whole situation is the tragic truth behind the belief of some (George Carlin comes to mind) that humans truly are a plague that the Earth would be wise to shake off.
Sometimes I think we take ourselves too seriously and are arrogant when we over-estimate the importance of our existence.
Most days I do believe life can be a beautiful thing and will teach my children to cherish it and milk it of all it will give. I also believe it is, ultimately, fleeting and therefore self-serving and of very little consequence in context. A belief I am usually much more cautious to share outside certain conversations. Enough.
Scottie.
About 10 years ago I was living in a house my Mom owned, the same house we lived in while I was in high school. I had my cat MJ (Michael Jordan) and found a stray kitten in the alley next to the house. I took the kitten to my vet to make sure it was OK and then adopted him. I named him Scottie (Pippen).
I have owned a fair number of cats in my life, but never one like Scottie. He was very skittish and quirky, likely a result of never having been weened properly (the mother died when he was about 3 wks). I think because I saved him, he always seemed to feel protected when I was around. He would come when I called him and often slept by my pillow. Many people commented that they had only seen him a couple of times in several years, yet whenever visitors were gone he was active, playful, and extremely social. He was a very silly kitty.
Scottie and MJ spent a year in Denver with my Mom on a skiing vacation, enjoying the mountains and the like. Jen and I drove them back at some point and they have been with us ever since.
There are two distinct moments that I can recall where I have seen a visible change in one of our animals; one that was permanent. When Joker was a year old I brought Daisy home from the pound. Even though they had an introductory visit at the Humane Society there was a physical change in Joker's expression and behavior the minute she came into our dining room. He instantly looked more mature and wiser. Trust me that's saying something. He became a big brother, and has since morphed into the snoochy booches. I had no idea what that meant until he changed.
The other moment was sometime after we brought Scottie and MJ back from Colorado. I had a sense that he didn't recall who I was anymore but he seemed to know he could trust me. One day I must have triggered something because it became very clear that he recalled I was the one who brought him in from the alley. From that moment on he never forgot who I was and never hesitated to let me know how much he loved spending time with me.
About 5 years ago Scottie started to pee in the house, in particular on rugs and items left on the floor. As with most people, my first reaction was to get rid of the cat. Had it been any other cat I feel confident that is exactly what I would have done. With Scottie though I felt a strong sense of obligation to make good on the unspoken promise I had made when I adopted him, to provide him a good life. One that lasts much longer than the 5 years he had under his belt at that time.
So, we tried various behavioral modification techniques, we put him on medication, and ultimately had to shut off portions of our house and keep him isolated if we didn't want to continue replacing rugs and towels.
The past few weeks had been noticeably worse. He was peeing on something every day and was ruining the furniture in our house (not to mention my already weak grip on sanity). He was now 10 years old and I am able to accept the fact that he's had a good long life; one that any litter-mates he may have had were not fortunate enough to experience.
I did some research and decided that we needed to go to the vet and, unless the vet discovered some potential cause for the latest increase in 'incidents', the decision had to be made to put him down. With Marcus out of his cast and on the brink of crawling around the house chewing on everything, it just would not be sanitary to keep Scottie around anymore.
Needless to say, my heart is broken. Even though I knew this would likely be the outcome of today's visit, it has been very rough on me. I know I did the right thing, but cannot help feeling some guilt as he was otherwise very happy and healthy, and loved being a part of our lives.
Even with the love I have for our other pets, he was my favorite by far and I miss him terribly.
No comments:
Post a Comment